


Jade

by rivers_bend



Series: powers verse [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Sibling Incest, Telekinesis, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-27
Updated: 2010-03-27
Packaged: 2017-10-08 08:54:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/74846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivers_bend/pseuds/rivers_bend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's horny and Ruby's pissing Sam off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jade

The joint's parking lot was empty apart from a few pickups and a rusted out Nova over by the door. Leaning against the Impala, forearms on the roof, half-hard cock cooling against the window, waiting for Dean to finish his drink and take a piss, Sam was trying to decide if Dean would ignore the rust because it was just an old Nova, or if he would look at the Chevy as a sister to his baby, and berate the owner until Sam shut him up with a finger in his mouth. Before he could make up his mind, he got distracted by a shiver and all the hairs at the back of his neck standing to attention.

"What now," he said, not even bothering to turn and look at Ruby.

"So how'd Dean like your new trick?" Her hand snaked around his waist, worming between his stomach and the glass as though she were welcome. "Did you give him a show?"

Ignoring the way his dick thought a warm hand was something to reach for, Sam said, "Fuck off, why don't you?"

Ruby slid her hand down, cupping the bulge in his jeans between her fingertips and palm. "Now, now. Is this for me? Or are you so far gone you're rubbing yourself off against your brother's car?"

Elbowing Ruby in the sternum, Sam whirled around and shoved her aside with a thought. When he saw her grin, he decided telekinesis wasn't hands-on enough, and he wanted to use his fists to wipe the smirk off her face. Deciding that he should be the better man, he stuffed them in his pockets instead.

"Sammy, if you weren't so cute, you'd be kind of pathetic."

"I told you not to call me that." Sam regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. No matter how many times he told himself not to rise to her bait, she got to him.

"I know. Only your precious brother gets to call you that. Sorry." She sounded anything but.

Only then did Sam realize that Ruby was twisted at an awkward angle against the fender, not moving, and that he was keeping her there. Without even concentrating.

"Does he call you that when you're fucking him? Does he say, 'Fuck me, Sammy, fuck me harder,' or does he keep it for when you're acting like that spoiled little brother he raised practically single handedly?"

Sam wondered how hard he'd have to push to drive her through the car's frame and then remembered pretty much simultaneously that she was a demon and that Dean would kill him, so that was a bad plan. He settled for flinging her fifteen feet across the parking lot instead. Her pout as she stood up, brushing off her hands, was only a marginal improvement on her smirk.

"All that education, you have a reputation for being a man of words. But you're really a man of action, aren't you?"

"Some people don't listen to words," Sam said. "I'll try again though. What do you want?"

"I found something you might be interested in," Ruby said, reaching into the pocket of her red leather jacket. She pulled out a pale green disc about the size of a quarter. When she held it up, it looked like ornately carved jade under the lot's dirty lamp.

"What is it?" Sam held out his hand and she dropped it in his palm.

"The crossroads demon you killed?" Ruby waited for Sam to nod, like he might have forgotten the woman in question. "This was hers. I don't mean it belonged to the poor human girl you shot, it was hers down below."

Despite feeling like stone in every other way, the disc was hot in Sam's palm, more so than he'd expect from just sitting in Ruby's pocket. "How did you get it? And why do I want it?"

"The how doesn't matter, and the why is for you to discover. I told you I'd help you with Dean's problem, and I'm trying to live up to my side of the bargain." She stepped closer, so his hand, still outstretched so he could look at the jade medallion, was brushing against her chest.

"Sam?" Shit. Dean. "What the hell is this?"

"Ruby brought us a present." Sam had spun to face his brother, but he could hear Ruby's footsteps fading as she retreated towards the highway.

"Her tits? Didn't look like much of a gift to me."

Sam decided to wait and see what he could find out about the medallion before he got Dean involved, and tucked it in his pocket. "Yeah, well," he said, pulling Dean forward by his belt loop. "I thought you were never coming."

"Looks like you didn't miss me much." Dean frowned in the direction Ruby had gone.

"You are _not_."

Pulling out of Sam's grip, Dean pulled open the Impala's driver's door. "I'm not what?"

"Jealous of Ruby. For fuck's sake, Dean."

"You getting in, or are you gonna wait and see if your little girlfriend comes back?"

Sam walked round to the passenger side and somehow resisted the urge to wrench the door open, climbing in with what he was sure was a calm and reasonable expression.

"Wipe that pout off your face, Sam. You're the one playing grab-ass in the parking lot. You don't see me sulking, do you?" Dean popped Blue Oyster Cult out of the tape deck and rummaged around in the box while static hissed out of the speakers.

"Dean, I wasn't even— You know what? Never mind. If you want to think I'm sleeping around with a demon behind your back, why should I stop you?"

"Wasn't behind anything. It was right in my face." Clearly not in the mood to make amends with his music choice, Dean picked Whitesnake, grinning triumphantly in the face of Sam's glare as he turned up the volume.

Not touching the radio, or in any other way confirming that Dean was pissing him off, Sam reached into his pocket and fingered the piece of jade, which was still warm like it had been up against his skin. He didn't for a single second think about Ruby saying that it would be a relief for Sam to not have to put up with his brother anymore. Stupid bitch didn't know what she was talking about anyway.

Sam had the room key and was out of the car before Dean even had it in park. When Dean sauntered in, mouth open to continue bitching, Sam was ready. He swept the door out of Dean's hand and lifted him up against the wall before stalking over to get up in his face.

"Not another word out of that mouth." To make sure Dean couldn't protest, Sam covered said mouth with his own.

The way Dean nipped and licked at him, Sam knew he'd been had. "You _fucker_," he said, letting Dean drop to the floor before pulling him forward with a fist in his shirt. "You didn't—"

Dean buried both hands in Sam's hair and just fucking _pulled_, mashing Sam's lips and bringing tears springing to his eyes as Dean ripped out a hair with his ring.

At the risk of losing more hair, Sam flattened Dean's wrists to the wall with a thought, and used his hips to flatten the rest of him. If Dean's groan was anything to go by, he didn't mind in the slightest. "Damn you," Sam said against Dean's tongue, and god knew what Dean thought it meant, but he practically whimpered in response, bucking his dick into the arch of Sam's hip.

Too many goddamn clothes, and Sam wasn't sure if his legs were gonna hold him up much longer, so he started tugging and shoving and somehow got Dean mostly naked on the bed. Shirts flung aside, and jeans bunched at his boot tops, he was up on his elbows watching as Sam squeezed his own dick through his jeans.

"Boots're easier to untie if you don't try to take my pants off first. Just a point of interest," Dean said, spit-shiny mouth twitching in an entirely distracting fashion.

"Whatever." With one hand on Dean's hip and one on his shoulder, Sam flipped Dean onto his belly. Wouldn't be the first time Dean got fucked with his boots on.

"Fuck. Sammy." Dean reached down and adjusted himself, rocking into his palm a few times as he did so.

"Not so fast," Sam said, and slapped his ass. "No starting this party without me."

"Well, hurry the fuck up. What're you waiting for?"

Good point, not that Sam was about to admit it. He toed his own shoes off and shucked out of his jeans while Dean deliberately crossed his wrists above his head, and spread his legs as much as his jeans would allow.

The jar of Vaseline was still on the floor by the bed where Sam had dropped it the night before, and he leaned down to scoop it up. Dean was humping the bed again, a reflex action; Sam had learned to tell the difference between Dean rebelling and Dean just so fucking horny he couldn't sit still. "Shhhh," Sam said, soothing him with a palm on the small of his back. "Just gotta get slick so I can fuck you like you need."

"Do it. God. Just **do** it already."

Sam fumbled to find a position—the whole boots and jeans thing was easier when they were standing up—and finally ordered Dean up on his knees. He tried to go slowly, but Dean shoved back at the first touch of Sam's dick, and Sam slid in without pause. It still awed Sam that his brother could take him like this. That he wanted to. For all Dean's macho posturing, for all that he loved fucking Sam senseless, Dean was a total cock-slut. Not that Sam was complaining.

Unlike Dean. "Are you gonna move at all there? Or are you just taking in the view?" Dean was trying to fuck himself on Sam's cock, but Sam was heavy on top of him and had a grip on his hips that meant Dean could do little more than wiggle.

Sam pulled out until he could see Dean stretched around the tip of his cock. The sight made him want to lick his brother's hole, but he knew Dean would kill him if he took his dick out now. Instead, he rubbed his thumb over the thin rim, feeling the slide of his cock as he pushed back inside.

"Wha…" Dean's question trailed off into a groan as Sam continued rubbing his hole and fucking him slow and deep.

"Keep, fuck. Whatever… doing, just. _Fuck_."

Sam pressed at Dean's perineum with slick fingers, moaning at the feeling on his dick, pressing harder when Dean jumped. "Feel that? Gonna make you feel me everywhere."

"Christ. Sammy." Dean had a white knuckle grip on the pillow and was reaching for his cock with the other hand. "Feels… Holy _fuck_."

It was hard to keep any kind of rhythm, rubbing, fucking, Dean's maddening heat, and the added pressure, and Dean was jerking around like Sam was shocking him, making noises that drove Sam even crazier, but he just held on for the ride. Dean gave up on his dick, just clutching the sheets with both hands, taking Sam by surprise when he came so violently he jerked himself off Sam's cock. Sam flattened him to the bed, grinding himself to orgasm in the clench of Dean's crack, too far gone to organize getting back inside.

Sam didn't know how long it was before either of them moved, but he could just about breathe again when Dean mustered up the energy to push him off. Sam expected Dean to turn away, his usual MO, but he turned and burrowed into Sam's arms, gripping at Sam's back, muttering something over and over.

"What?" Sam said.

"The fuck were you doing?" Dean pulled away enough so he could blink up at Sam. "That was… wow. That was wow."

Sam started to reach down, show Dean what he'd been doing, because he wasn't sure he had the words, but Dean stopped him.

"Uh unh. Too much. Wow, but too much. Have to show me later." He burrowed back under Sam's chin and started sucking lazily on Sam's collar bone. He didn't even protest when Sam curled a hand around the back of his neck, rubbing at his hair.

When the chill started creeping in, Sam reluctantly pulled away. "We get those boots off and get in the other bed?"

"Mmmm," Dean said, which might have meant, 'Great plan, let's do that,' or might have meant, 'Nah, can't be bothered.'

Sam chose to believe the former, and sat up to start on Dean's laces. Dean helped, which is to say he rolled onto his back and even moved to the other bed under his own steam.

"C'mon, Sam," he said when Sam just stood, looking at him. He was ridiculously good looking all post-coital and loose-limbed. Bastard.

"Brush my teeth," Sam answered, deciding not to feed Dean's ego by jumping him, which was the temptation.

When he came back, Dean was already asleep, blankets barely covering his ass, the long line of his back artfully displayed, and his face buried in his arms. He looked intensely vulnerable, and Sam wondered if the rush of hopelessness and protectiveness that hit him was what Dean felt every time he looked at Sam with that frown between his eyes. Whoever had that marker on him wasn't taking Dean. He just wasn't.

Sam fumbled in the pocket of his jeans for the disc Ruby had given him, rubbed his thumb over the carvings. He considered starting doing research now, but he was exhausted, and the empty spot next to Dean was too inviting. Sam curled his back into the space under Dean's arm and pulled the blankets up over his shoulder. The disc burned in his fist as he fell asleep, unable to let go.  



End file.
